


For Sorrow Sung

by shadowsong26



Category: Battlestar Galactica (new series)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-03-31
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 15:56:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2234847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsong26/pseuds/shadowsong26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nineteen days before Baltar's trial is set to begin, a teenage girl is shot just outside of Dogsville. Helo investigates. Originally posted to LJ between 3/31/11 and 6/11/11</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will most likely not be continued, but it depends on whether or not I get back into BSG in the near future, so it is a possibility.

**Chapter 1**

_Nineteen Days Before Gaius Baltar's Trial  
Galactica_

Helo sat in his little cubicle on the edge of Dogsville, digging through the stack of written complaints handed to him that morning by the various residents. He pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to ten, slowly. He was known for being one of the more patient officers with the rank to be given this assignment (which, coupled with the grey-area legality of some of his recent actions, was probably why it was his now), but some of these complaints were so frakking _stupid..._

Two gunshots interrupted him, echoing from somewhere just around the bend. He launched to his feet, pulled out his own sidearm, and fought his way through the confused mass of people, trying to get around that corner.

"Oh, my gods!" someone shrieked, apparently having beaten him there.

"Move aside!" he yelled. "Let me through!"

Finally, after an endless thirty seconds or so, he managed to work his way to the front of the crowd.

There was a girl lying in a spreading puddle of blood, maybe sixteen or seventeen years old. No sign of the gun or the shooter. He ran over and knelt next to her, checking for a pulse.

He found one, faint and thready, but still going. He reached up and grabbed a marine's arm, one of seven who had responded to the shots the same way he had. "She's still alive. Go get Cottle, now."

"Yes, sir," the marine replied, and ran off.

"And you two, find the shooter. The rest of you, keep the crowd back." In the meantime, Helo tried to find the worst of the bleeding and get it slowed, even if he couldn't stop it. Once the girl was safely on her way to sickbay, he'd have to talk to everyone in the settlement, find out if anyone had seen anything, or knew who she was--she didn't live here; he was fairly certain he'd never seen her before.

From there, well...

First, do what he could to make sure the kid would survive.

The first marine was back, with Cottle, who took over from Helo in seeing to the girl. Helo nodded briefly to the doctor, then dragged over a crate and stood up on it. He made a bullhorn with his hands. "Everyone, _listen to me_!" The people here were, by now, at least moderately accustomed to him as an authority figure, so by the time Cottle and his helpers had gotten the girl onto a gurney and out of the hallway, they were more or less silent. "I'm going to need to talk to everyone who saw or heard anything, or _thinks_ they saw or heard anything, and everyone who has any kind of idea who the girl is."

He winced, as the predictable chaos following his announcement bubbled up again, everyone scrambling over each other to talk. " _Wait a minute_." After a while longer, quiet finally fell again. "If you have something to tell me, go talk to one of the marines. I can only hear one person at a time. They'll keep this organized, so everyone can tell me what they know." _And I can sort through the people who are misremembering, or over-emphasizing, or flat-out making things up, that much faster._

A dull rumble of noise started up again, as people started heading back to their assigned spaces or talking to one of the marines. _Sooner or later, I'll have to talk to everyone, just to be sure._ But this was a start, at least.

* * *

 

_A Few Hours Later_

There were nineteen certified lawyers in the fleet. Seven of them were on the Quorum, and, of those left, Alan Hughes had been the fifth President Roslin had approached to defend Dr. Baltar. He'd made a brief show of thinking it over, but agreed without too much fuss--he'd always had a grim fascination for brutal, seemingly hopeless cases. He'd been a little surprised to hear that it had even taken the President three tries to find a prosecutor. Apparently, no one wanted to touch this case on either side.

Hughes handed Baltar a half-dozen sheets of paper. "Sorry there's not as much this time. There was an incident down in Dogsville earlier. Since I have to smuggle most of my paper through there..."

"What sort of incident?" the other man asked absently, after snatching the papers and starting in on them. He didn't even look up.

"Someone got shot."

Baltar paused for a half-second, though he still didn't look up, before resuming writing. Sounding more curious than anything else, he asked, "Did you hear a name?"

"Reyes, I think," he replied, after considering a moment.

The other man's face drained of color, and he stopped completely. "Is--will she be all right?"

Well, now, _that_ was interesting. While Baltar occasionally deigned to speak with him during these meetings, he never actually stopped writing to do so. "Last I heard, she was still alive. Why, do you know her?"

"Just...curious, that's all."

Hughes stared at him, then sighed. "We talked about this."

"What?"

"I can't help you if you lie to me."

Baltar at last looked up and stared at him for a long moment. "This has _nothing_ to do with--" He cut himself off, staring a little bit beyond Hughes in that creepy way he did sometimes. "Stop it."

Hughes sighed and rubbed at his temples. "It might have something to do with it. I told you, every little bit helps."

Baltar was still staring at nothing--Hughes didn't even have to look to know that's what it was. He had, the first few times the other man had done it, but there was never anything there. Unfortunately, he didn't meet the legal definition of insanity, which would have made Hughes' job a hell of a lot easier. He sighed again, and waited for the other man to check back in to the discussion at hand.

He didn't have to wait long. Baltar made an irritated noise and turned away from the beyond-him place. "Any relationship I may or may not have with Atia Reyes has nothing to do with you, or the trial."

_So you_ do _know her. Or at least you know her full name. But you're not going to tell me anything else about her, are you._ "Fine," Hughes said. He'd find out what he needed to know by asking other people, the way he always did when his client was unwilling to share specifics. It was faster, less confusing, and far less infuriating for both of them. He leaned back and closed his eyes, listening to Baltar's pen slowly start moving again, waiting for him to finish so he could take the papers and set about asking his questions.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  Helo briefs Adama on the current state of the investigation; Cottle reveals some interesting and possibly relevant details about Atia Reyes. Meanwhile, Hughes sets out feelers for his own investigation through his girlfriend.

**Chapter 2**

_Eighteen Days Before Gaius Baltar's Trial  
Galactica_

"What exactly happened?" Adama asked him.

"I'm not exactly sure yet, sir," Helo admitted. "I heard the shots and went to investigate, but had trouble getting through the crush of people. By the time I got there, the incident was over, and the shooter was gone. We're still looking for him, and I'm still sorting through everyone's stories."

He nodded. "Have you figured out who she is yet?"

"Yes, sir, there I did get lucky," he said. "Her name's Atia Reyes; she lives on the _Red Pelican._ She and some of her friends copy out books and trade them for things. She was delivering a couple to a woman down there. She'd finished the trade and was on her way out."

"What was she trading for?"

"Ink, according to the woman who bought her book. Sounie Mayze. She's never given me any trouble; I don't think she was lying."

The Admiral nodded again. "Have you talked to the people on the _Pelican_ yet?"

Helo shook his head. "I was going to head there from here."

Major Cottle, who'd been silent up until now, finally spoke. "I dug the bullets out of her. With a little luck, she'll live."

"You're sure about that?" Adama said, looking over at him.

"As sure as I can be. She had some scarring, too. Probably from about a year ago, give or take a few months, on her chest and back. It might be related."

Helo blinked. "What makes you say that?"

"Someone thought she was a traitor," he replied, flatly. "Carved and burned it into her."

"She's a _child_ ," Helo said, after a moment of stunned silence.

"People don't always care, Captain Agathon," Adama said quietly.

Helo bit his lower lip briefly, thinking what that could lead to. "Maybe something to do with her personal life. I think if she'd done anything on a larger scale, I'd've heard of her before now. Though I could be wrong." _And gods know people can get vicious about romantic betrayals. She's kind of young for that, but kids in the fleet grow up fast._

The Admiral nodded. "Find out."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

_Zephyr_

Alan traced a hand down Iliana Fortuna's bare stomach, with a faint smile. She smiled up at him in return, and nestled closer. "So, any gossip to report?"

"Nope," he replied, with a faint sigh. "Believe me, if I had any, I'd share."

"And my boss would be eternally grateful. Without, of course, ever knowing who my source is." They shared a conspiratorial smirk.

Iliana had gone to elementary and middle school with Alan's kid sister, before she and her family had moved to Saggitaron. Iliana and Dana had tried to stay in touch, but like any kids going to separate high schools after growing up together, found different circles of friends and fell out of contact. Alan had been more than a little surprised to find her here in the fleet, even on his ship, all grown up. He'd been building up a moderately impressive information network, dabbling a little in trade, both legal and extra-legal, while she'd gone into politics, becoming a secretary in Tom Zarak's office when he was elected to the Quorum to represent Saggitaron an age and a half ago. They'd started by trading information--if she found anything that would help him from her boss or his associates, she'd share, and vice-versa. One thing had led to another, and they'd spent a few drunken nights together during the Presidential campaign two years ago. Then a few sober nights on New Caprica. Then they'd started making this a habit.

"What about you?" he asked, propping himself up on one elbow. "Anything to report from Colonial One?"

She shook her head, and pulled a face. "Nothing new, anyways. Repairs from the raptor crash are going well, but slowly, the typical political infighting, Bossman trying to talk the President out of holding a trial for the umpteenth time and Tory Foster on the verge of throwing something at him to get him to shut up...the usual. Nothing new being initiated. Kind of unspoken unofficial hold on non-essential business until your mess is cleared up."

He nodded. About what he'd expected, then. "I'd mention the shooting, but I'm sure you heard about that."

"Yeah." She wrinkled her nose. "At least as far as my boss knows, Captain Agathon is investigating, and is exactly nowhere with it."

He flopped back again. "Yeah, that's what I heard on my grapevine, too. Well, that and some implausible rumors about her being pregnant by some VIP or other who decided to handle the problem with bullets, since safe abortions are illegal."

She giggled. "I'd heard those, too. Someone asked me if it was my boss."

Alan got a mental image of that, and immediately wished he hadn't. She laughed harder at the look on his face.

" _Anyway_ ," he said, when she'd finally calmed down enough to listen. "If you do pick up anything, let me know?"

She blinked, but nodded. "Yeah, sure. Any reason why?"

"Timing. Trial starts in less than a month, after all."

She sat up. "You think there's a connection?"

 _I_ know _there's a connection_. He shrugged. "I'd rather cover all my bases, just in case. Like I said, the timing bothers me. There's no apparent motive or suspect, so it's _possible_ that either someone very twisted thinks this kind of sadistic distraction will help us, or she's connected some way."

"If she is, Captain Agathon will probably figure it out."

"I know, but I'd rather find out on my own."

She nodded. "If I hear anything, I'll let you know," she promised. "I might even be able to do you one better, depending on if my boss takes enough of an interest to try and get his hands on documents."

"You're an angel."

She smiled, but then stretched and stood all the way up. "Speaking of Bossman, he'll be missing me soon."

Alan nodded. "D'you know when you'll be able to get away again?"

She shook her head. "I'll contact you if I have anything to tell you about the shooting." She bent down and kissed him, lingering, then collected her clothes and slipped away.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helo goes to the _Red Pelican_  to see if Atia's friends can shed any light on motive. Iliana comes through for Hughes with a copy of Cottle's report on her injuries.

**Chapter 3**

_Seventeen Days Before Gaius Baltar's Trial  
Red Pelican_

Helo was met at the _Pelican_ by a young woman, maybe in her early twenties. "Hi. Um. I'm Kelly Nerys," she said. "You're here about Atia?"

He nodded. "I'm Captain Karl Agathon. And yes. I just need to talk to her friends for a minute. How well do you know her?"

"Um. Well enough, I guess. She and her friends have been living on the Pelican since the beginning. They were on a school trip; their teacher had a heart attack about a year and a half ago. Um. I think she's been trying to figure out a way to make more paper?" Miss Nerys ran a shaky hand through her hair. "She's kind of quiet. Keeps to herself. Really smart, all ten of them are."

He nodded again. "Thanks. Where can I find her friends?"

"I'll show you," she replied. "Um. This way, Captain."

He followed her through the _Pelican_ to where Atia and her friends stayed. The ship was a little bit smaller than _Colonial One_ , having been a commercial liner out of Luminere before the attack, and had been hastily rearranged into living quarters.

Miss Nerys showed him a partitioned-off section that had been set up as a sort of schoolroom. There were ten improvised desks. Girls were sitting at nine of them, all about the same age as Miss Reyes; the last was tellingly empty.

The nine of them looked up when the curtain dividing them from the rest of the ship was pulled back. One of them, a petite girl with very dark hair, stood up and came over to talk to them.

"This is Captain...um..."

"Agathon," Helo supplied when Miss Nerys trailed off, uncertainly.

"Right. Agathon. Sorry. Um, he's investigating the...yeah."

The girl nodded. "I'm Rose Yates. Is Atia gonna be okay?" She had the flat, nasal accent common to people from Leonis, same as Miss Nerys did.

Helo decided to be honest with her. "She's still alive, and Dr. Cottle thinks she's probably going to be okay. As of when I left _Galactica_ , she hadn't woken up yet."

Miss Yates took a deep breath, and nodded. "Right. Okay. Do you know _why_ someone would...?" She broke off, clenching her fists a little.

He hesitated. "We're still looking into things. I wanted to talk to you and your friends, see if you knew anything that might...?"

She shook her head firmly. "We copy books, Captain. That's all. We don't do anything that would put us at risk of...of getting..." She took another deep breath. "Atia was copying a _romance novel_ , for the gods' sake. It wasn't even a particularly--" She cut herself off, going a very brilliant red.

Helo coughed a little. "Does she have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend?"

Miss Yates thought a minute, then shook her head. "Not that I know of. She's kind of kept to herself since we left New Caprica. She doesn't even talk to us as much as she used to. Only time she leaves our area these days is when she's delivering books to people. We draw lots for that," she added, to explain.

He nodded. "Was she...do you know if she was detained?"

"She...disappeared, for a few weeks, right before you guys came back for us," Miss Yates replied, after a moment's hesitation. "She won't tell us where she was. After a while, we stopped asking, figuring she'd probably tell us when she was ready to. None of us want to force her."

"Of course, I understand completely." So she was. _Which means the scarring is almost definitely from a personal problem_. "Has she _ever_ been involved with anyone, as far as you know?"

Miss Yates shook her head again. "No, sir. Lissa left us for a while when she moved in with her boyfriend, and a couple of the others have had special friends, but...even before New Caprica, Atia wasn't ever especially interested in that." Helo thought she sounded slightly frustrated, and filed it away in the back of his mind.

Another thought struck him. "Was she writing anything herself? A novel or anything she'd made up?"

"Not that I know of," Miss Yates said, slowly. "She was always more into numbers than stories and stuff. I think that's why she's been using her spare time trying to figure out a way to make paper from what we have here. It interests her more."

He nodded. "I'd like to go through her desk, anyway. Just in case."

"Yeah, sure," she replied. "Do you want to do that first, or talk to the others first?" She flushed a little. "A lot of what we copy out that isn't trashy romance novels is really bad detective novels, so I sort of guessed what you'd want to do when you got here..."

Helo smiled a little. "I'll talk to people first, then go through her desk."

Miss Yates nodded, still a little red. "Okay. If you want to ask me anything else, I'll be at that desk." She indicated the one she'd gotten up from, in case he'd forgotten, then gave him the others' names. He thanked her, then found a place to set himself up where he could talk to each of them privately.

* * *

_The Next Day_

_Zephyr_

Iliana set a file down on Alan's bed. He blinked and looked up at her. "What's this?"

"Your lucky day," she said, then perched on the edge of the bed. "Major Cottle's report on the girl's injuries. Apparently, Bossman's just as suspicious about the timing as you are, so he asked to see it. Though he made up a different excuse, of course."

"Is this the original?" he asked, wary. _If I get caught with it--or if_ she _gets caught with it..._

She rolled her eyes. "I may not be a lawyer, Alan, but I'm not stupid. It's a copy."

He relaxed a little. "Okay, then." Carefully, he opened the file. Iliana moved around him to look over his shoulder.

"I haven't actually looked at it yet," she admitted. "I didn't want to risk being caught with it, so I hid the copy I made 'til I got here. And gods know I don't actually pay attention to what I'm copying down. I'd never be able to do things fast enough to suit Bossman if I stopped to think about what I was doing."

Alan nodded, and started skimming through the pages. Most of it wasn't very interesting--two bullets, what damage they'd done, the angle and other factors indicating the shooter was average height and about six feet away, shots entering from the front. The girl had most likely seen her attacker.

Finally, though, he found something useful. Descriptions of scarring on her chest, where someone had burned the word 'traitor,' and her back, where the same had been carved in. Iliana gasped faintly and clapped her hands to her mouth, giving him a horrified look. Alan himself closed his eyes.

"Who would...?"

_There_ is _a connection_ , Alan thought dully, not answering his girlfriend right away. _And, unfortunately, at least one angry motherfrakker with a gun knows about it_. "I don't know," he finally answered.

"Are you going to tell anyone?" she asked.

That was the question, wasn't it. He chewed on his lower lip for a minute. "Not...yet," he finally said. "Not until I get a chance to confirm I have something to tell. Without exposing my illegal access to confidential medical files. If I could talk to her, too...but I can't. Not without giving the game away. And we all know that people in a position to do real harm...might." He closed his eyes, blotting out the mental image of Colonel Tigh.

Iliana nodded. "My guess is Bossman's connected the dots, or he will as soon as he actually looks at the file. If you want to handle leaking the connection yourself, you don't have much time."

"I know," Alan said. He shut the folder and sighed. "Believe me, I know. Do you have any idea what your boss might do once he's worked it out?"

She spread her hands and shrugged helplessly. "He can be hard to predict. He might make the announcement, or at least tell the President, as concrete proof that there shouldn't be a trial at all. Or he might sit on it. I don't know."

He nodded. "Right. Okay. Thank you for getting this to me."

"No problem," she said. "You've got a way to get rid of it, or should I take care of it?"

"I can handle it."

She nodded, squeezed his hand briefly, then left.

Alan pinched the bridge of his nose and focused on squelching the idea of using what was in the file to force his client to tell him the specifics of the connection. Too much chance of getting caught with it. Sharing the facts verbally would have to be enough.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helo consults with Gaeta about Atia's research; Hughes confronts Baltar with what he's learned.

**Chapter 4** ****

_Fourteen Days Before Gaius Baltar's Trial  
Galactica_

Helo hadn't been able to find out much from the other girls when he questioned them. They'd all said the same sort of thing as Miss Yates and Miss Nerys had--Miss Reyes was brilliant, reclusive, celibate, and hadn't been working on anything particularly controversial.

Going through Miss Reyes' desk, however, had been interesting, to say the least. As Miss Yates had indicated, Helo had found the romance novel she had been copying--it was called _Captive's Passion_ , and from what he gleaned skimming it, had something to do with pirates. There were a few other half-completed projects on her desk. One was a cheap detective novel he vaguely remembered reading a couple years before, and one was the hundred fifteenth book in a well-known series written for preteen girls, but the third concerned him. It didn't have a corresponding printed book that was being copied from, so it was something of the girl's own creation. It was a letter, describing what looked to Helo like a child's birthday party; addressed to someone called the 'Tower Man.' It wasn't signed.

It was possible, of course, that Miss Yates had been wrong, and Miss Reyes had been attempting an epistolary spy novel or something. Or she might've been writing a coded letter to someone.

He'd also found the research Miss Yates, Miss Nerys and the others had indicated Miss Reyes was getting into. He hadn't been able to decipher much of it; she seemed to have taken one somewhat large sheet of paper and written in, crossed out, substituted, revised, and otherwise altered the formula several times. In addition, the handwriting was so small he could barely make it out.

The investigation had been stalled for a while. He still hadn't managed to find the gun, let alone the shooter, and the motive was still a mystery. There was Miss Yates' seemingly unrequited crush, which might explain the scarring. She couldn't've pulled the trigger herself, as she was shorter than Miss Reyes, and the shooter had been taller, but she was clearly the leader of the Book Girls. It wasn't entirely out of the realm of possibility that she'd arranged it. And if she felt herself romantically betrayed, that might be a possible explanation for the scars. Especially if these coded letters to the 'Tower Man' were to a secret lover.

On the other hand, the previous scarring might've been completely unrelated to the current shooting. He thought that was unlikely, given the low murder rate in the fleet--the chance that two people would hate this girl that much for two separate reasons was vanishingly small. But, as the only possible explanation he had that took into account both attacks was problematic, he was trying to decipher the paper formula. Any type of new luxury, or a substitute for rare necessities, could well be reason enough to put a bullet in someone. Besides, none of what little he'd been able to learn about Miss Yates and her relationship with Miss Reyes indicated jealousy or frustration anywhere near the level that would explain carving up or trying to kill her friend. If he ignored the scarring as something unrelated, some sort of scientific espionage grown violent made a hell of a lot more sense.

Unless the formula wasn't worth stealing. New paper was, yes, but he had no way of telling whether or not Miss Reyes' design was anywhere approaching workable. Anyone looking to steal it would know one way or the other. Obviously, Helo needed to find that out before he could start looking into the formula as a possible motive.

As soon as he could, he tracked down Lieutenant Gaeta. "I was wondering if I could get you to look at something."

"Sure," he replied. "What's up?"

He handed Gaeta the folded paper. "Does this mean anything to you?"

Gaeta didn't answer right away. He moved over to the wall and completely unfolded the paper, spreading it out so he could see the whole thing and scanned it for a few minutes. "I'm not sure it would work, but it's not far off from it. Supposed to be a writing surface, right?"

Helo nodded. "I was told that it's supposed to be a formula for a paper substitute."

Gaeta nodded and studied the sheet again. "I don't know if it would do what it's supposed to, but it wouldn't take much more modification, and everything used in it is pretty readily available, even now...where'd you get this?"

"The girl who was shot a few days ago had it in her desk."

"I thought she was around sixteen?"

Helo blinked. "Just turned seventeen. Why?"

"This is way beyond what most kids her age could come up with," Gaeta informed him. "I'm not sure I would've thought of some of this--granted, chemistry wasn't ever my specialty or anything, but still."

"I see." He frowned a little. "The main thing I wanted to know was whether or not you thought this would be worth shooting her over."

To that, Gaeta nodded. "Definitely. Either she plagiarized someone else's work, or she really is this smart and someone wanted the formula and she wasn't sharing."

"Thanks," Helo said.

"No problem."

"Captain Agathon?"

Helo turned, to find a Marine waiting to talk to him. "Yes?"

"Major Cottle asked me to find you. He said to let you know that she's awake and you can talk to her now."

Without another word, Gaeta folded up the paper again and handed it back to Helo. "Good luck," he said.

"Thanks." Helo turned and followed the Marine towards sickbay.

* * *

Hughes set his briefcase on the ground and sat down. "We need to talk."

"What about?"

"The girl."

Baltar froze. "I told you, she has nothing to do with--"

He picked up the case, snapped it open, and pulled out the relevant page of Major Cottle's report on the girl's injuries. "Can you honestly look at that and tell me to my face that she's not connected to you in some way?"

The other man stared down at the paper, saying nothing.

"I've told you again and again and _again_ , if you don't tell me the truth, _I can't help you_. Or her."

"Please leave her alone," he said quietly. "I don't want--" He cut himself off and stared at nothing again.

"Doctor. _Focus_ ," Hughes snapped. "Look at me."

It took Baltar a few minutes to tear his eyes away from whatever it was he saw when he stared off into space like that. "All right. All _right_ , I'm focusing. You have my complete attention."

"Who is the girl?" Hughes asked him again.

"She's--" He broke off and looked down at the paper again, picking it up with one trembling hand. "I came for her...she hadn't thought I would, she told me she told _them_ I wouldn't, but I...I couldn't..." He dropped the paper and closed his eyes.

"Just start with who she is, okay?"

Baltar put his head in his hands and finally gave an answer, talking into them so Hughes couldn't actually hear.

"Tell me, not your hands." _I sound like a frakking preschool teacher. Gods help us all._

"She's my daughter."

_This...shouldn't be surprising_. Hughes wasn't sure exactly what he'd been expecting, but for some reason, it hadn't been that. Now he heard it, though, it made perfect sense. Baltar wasn't exactly celibate, but the girl was barely seventeen, and the last time they could've met in person, would have been fairly obviously underage. Even he had standards.

"How long have you known?" Hughes asked after a short silence.

"Since New Caprica." Baltar stared down at the ground. "She was kidnapped. By the Resistance. They contacted me with a ransom demand."

"And you met it?"

"She's my daughter."

"Do you know who was involved?"

He shook his head. "I never saw any faces. And I don't know how many people in total know."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"To keep something like this from happening."

"I see." Hughes leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay. I think secrecy is out of the question now. I'll talk to her; make sure she's comfortable with leaking it."

"What?" Baltar looked up. "No, you can't--"

"She was shot, here on _Galactica_ ," Hughes pointed out. "She's been literally branded a traitor, and it's now two weeks until the trial starts. If I managed to put the pieces together, how long do you think it'll be before the people whose _job_ it is to investigate this manage it?"

He didn't have an answer for that.

"It'll go better for everyone if the leak comes from us," he went on, decisively. "I won't do it before preparing her, I promise."

"She won't talk to you."

"Sorry?"

"She's more paranoid about this than I am," Baltar replied. "We've been writing letters, with codenames. Her idea, all of it. She's not going to talk to you sight unseen, even if you are my lawyer."

That could prove to be a problem. "What do you suggest, then?"

Baltar was silent for a brief minute, then dug out a piece of paper and wrote something on it, then folded it and handed it over. "Give this to her. It might get her to open up. But I can't promise anything."

Hughes slipped the note into his briefcase, along with the page of the medical report, and snapped it shut again. "All right."

As he left, he looked back to see his client standing near the bars, watching him go; his right hand was floating about a quarter-inch above his left shoulder. "Keep her safe."

Hughes nodded. "I will. I promise."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  Five days after the shooting, Helo interviews Atia; Hughes considers how best to approach her.

**Chapter 5**

_Fourteen Days Before Gaius Baltar's Trial  
Galactica_

Helo went directly to the infirmary after receiving Cottle's message.

"Ten minutes, Captain," the doctor told him, and he nodded and approached her.

"Miss Reyes?"

She looked over at him, blinking groggily. "Uh-huh?"

_Okay. Aware, but hazy. This might take a while._ He pulled over a chair. "I'm Captain Karl Agathon. Can I talk to you for a couple minutes?"

"Sure."

He pulled a chair over next to her bed and sat down in it. "Do you know where you are?"

She blinked. "Hospital?"

Helo nodded. "Do you remember anything of what happened?"

Miss Reyes hesitated a minute, then nodded. "Shot."

"Did you see who shot you?"

She nodded, reluctantly.

"Can you describe the shooter?"

She was silent again for a long moment. "Was bored."

Helo blinked. "Come again?"

"Was bored. Shot myself."

He stared at her. "You...shot yourself."

"Uh-huh."

"From six feet away."

She looked momentarily panicked, then found an answer. "Used a string."

"You used a string."

She nodded.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "What happened to the gun?"

"Gun?"

"We didn't find the gun used to shoot you."

"Oh." She thought for a minute. "Threw it away."

"You threw the gun away."

"S'what I said."

"After shooting yourself in the chest. Twice."

"Yes."

"From six feet away."

"Used a string."

"So you said." Helo let out a long sigh. "Let's go through this again, okay?"

"Told you what happened."

"I know you did. I'd just like to hear it again. Please?"

Miss Reyes looked a little sullen, but nodded.

Helo tried asking the same questions and as many variations on them as he could, but she never wavered in the overall story. When he questioned her on specific details--about the gun, the string she'd used, how she'd rigged it--she did forget and made new things up if he waited long enough. Eventually, though, he had to break the conversation off with no more information than he'd had when he started.

* * *

_Atia--_

_It's safe. He wants to help us. You can talk to him._

_\--GB_

Hughes refolded the note and stuck it back in his briefcase before walking out onto the hangar deck. _Now I just need to figure out how to_ get _to her before someone else leaks it._

"Waste of my time and energy, flying _Baltar's_ lawyer back and forth from _Zephyr_."

He smiled to himself. _Good. As long as you're busy hating me, you're not paying attention to what I'm actually doing._ He'd cultivated a number of annoying little habits to make sure that hatred remained of the Oh Gods Stay Away From Me flavor and not the Obsessive I Must Destroy You one.

"...tries to whisper into my ear when he talks. I've got a _helmet_."

He bent forward. "Sorry," he whispered, then smiled at the pilot.

"Mr. Hughes."

One of the mechanics--Cally Tyrol, he'd made a point to learn all their names--helped him up into the Raptor. "Thank you," he said, with a much more genuine smile. She rolled her eyes and jumped down.

He settled himself into his seat, kicked off his shoes--one more way to be annoying--and ran through his last conversation with his client in his head one more time.

There was a sudden flare of heat spreading from beneath him, and the world faded around him into a bright, endless white.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  Three months into the Occupation on New Caprica, Baltar learns of Atia's existence.

**Chapter 6**

_New Caprica  
Three Months Occupied_

He looked over the photograph. "You're sure she's his kid?"

"Sure as we can be without an actual DNA test, and that's not gonna happen."

"Sure enough to make him believe it, then." He sighed. "I don't like this."

"None of us do. But if it works, we can get some important people out."

"She's just a _kid_. Doesn't matter whose she is, she can't be more than sixteen."

"She's old enough to have been learning how to use a knife with some of the others."

"Yeah, but Tigh said to teach anyone over twelve who wants to learn. Doesn't make kidnapping one of them any less wrong."

There was a short silence.

"Are we gonna do this?"

He folded up the photograph. "Come up with a list of names. Fifteen important people, then we'll pick the twelve we're most likely to get. I'll start working out how to get the girl."

* * *

_One Week Later_

During one of his exceptionally rare moments of solitude, Baltar pulled out the message he'd received earlier that day. It contained a single page; one side was a list of a dozen names followed by a few brief sentences, and the other an instant snapshot of a teenaged girl.

The girl was gagged and tied to a chair, staring out at him with some mix of terror and rage. She looked terribly young, and terribly vulnerable. He couldn't see any obvious evidence that she'd been mistreated, but he had no idea when the picture had been taken. Certainly at least the several hours since he'd received it left the people holding her ample opportunity to change that.

He turned the page over again and skimmed the list of names (all recently detained, most in positions of significance to the Resistance) and reread the note at the bottom.

"We have your daughter. Bring us these people in three days, or she will be killed." The note then gave a more specific time, location, and date (presumably in case there was any difficulty in getting it to him).

He folded it again and slipped it in his pocket, leaning back in his chair, trying to process this. _Apparently I have a daughter_. Or maybe he didn't, but she looked a little like him--her eyes and some other features seemed to be the same shape. What lent even more credibility to the assumption--though the people holding her wouldn't know it--was that she looked a great deal like Melly, and was the right age to be her daughter.

_And that might explain why I never heard from Melly after that semester._

None of that helped with resolving this particular dilemma, though. _If she is my daughter, I can't leave her there to die_. On the other hand, going to rescue her didn't exactly augur well for his own survival.

He hesitated for a moment, then whispered, "Are you there?"

"Of course I'm here, Gaius." She slid over and sat on the edge of his desk.

"What should I do?" he asked.

"I can't tell you that this time." She stroked his hair. "She's your daughter, not ours."

"So...she really is mine?" He looked up.

"Yes."

He looked back down at the girl--his daughter. "They'll kill her if I don't go."

"That's undeniable."

"And they'll...they'll kill _me_ if I do."

"Oh, Gaius. I keep telling you. God has a plan for you." She gave him the knife-smile; the one that scared him most, even when she wasn't throwing him around, it was so sweet and poisonous. "He's not going to let you die ahead of schedule."

"Ah. Well, _that's_ comforting."

She pulled his hair a little and disappeared, leaving him to stare at the photograph.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baltar seeks Caprica's help in sheltering Atia.

**Chapter 7**

_New Caprica  
Three Months Occupied_

"Where have you _been_?" Caprica-Six asked him, looking slightly frantic. "I covered for you, but if you'd been any later--"

"I didn't think anyone would be looking for me today. I'm sorry." He wouldn't quite meet her eyes.

"You didn't answer my question."

He hesitated. "I...I need you to help me keep a secret."

She stared at him. "What have you gotten into now?"

He pulled the now-slightly-crumpled photograph out of his pocket and handed it to her.

She looked first at the picture, then at the note on the back. "My God, Gaius..."

"She's here. Outside. She's...she's hurt, I can't..."

Caprica-Six put the picture in her own pocket. "Bring her inside. I'll get one of the Fours--"

"No! No, you can't do that!"

"You said she's hurt."

"I-I know, and she is, but, Caprica, you _can't_ tell the others. They'll use her against me, just like the Resistance did. She's been through enough, _please_ , help me keep her secret." He was talking faster and faster.

"Calm _down_ , Gaius," she said, grabbing his shoulders to try and help him focus. "Okay. I won't tell anyone. Where is she now?"

He took a deep breath. "Right. Thank you. Yes. She's outside."

"Show me."

He took one of her hands off his shoulder and pulled her outside to where he'd hidden the girl for the moment. "It's me. I've brought help." No answer, but he pulled aside the screen anyway.

The girl from the picture was curled up there. She looked a little dazed, and was holding her torn shirt together with her left hand. Her eyes widened and she flinched back a little, seeing Caprica-Six, but her father held out a hand. "It's all right. She's here to help."

"Didn't think you'd come," the girl whispered.

Gaius didn't quite flinch, but he ducked his head slightly, and his hair fell forward to screen his face. "I know. You said." He took a deep breath. "If you come inside, we can clean you up a bit..."

After staring blankly at him for a few seconds, she slowly nodded. Gaius held out his hand again, and she took it. He pulled her up carefully, steadying her when she nearly fell.

"We're less likely to get caught if we go this way," Caprica-Six said quietly, and he nodded, following her and pulling his daughter along behind him.

 

 

They got very lucky; no one caught them as they brought the girl in. Caprica pulled the medkit out from under the bed, and pulled out the various things she thought she'd need. She carefully approached the girl. "May I see?"

She hesitated a little, then let go of her shirt. It fell open, revealing an angry red burn.

'Traitor'

Caprica-Six sucked in a breath, then calmly picked up the things she'd pulled out of the medkit. She was rather grateful that she'd insisted that she take care of this part, while Gaius re-established himself with the others. He didn't need to see this.

"This might sting a little," she warned. The girl didn't respond, but she didn't pull away when Caprica-Six got close enough to clean the burns. She did flinch when touched. "Sorry," Caprica-Six said. "I'll be as gentle as I can."

Still nothing from the girl herself. _Maybe I can distract her a little, if she'll talk to me at all._ "What's your name?"

The girl was quiet for a minute, flinching again. "A-atia," she finally answered. "Atia Reyes."

"That's a lovely name. I'm almost done here."

Atia nodded, and Caprica-Six finished with the burns, then noticing the blood on her shirt. "Are you hurt anywhere else?" she asked.

She nodded again, and turned around. The same word had been cut into her back. Caprica-Six fought down a surge of anger. _We're here to try and repair relations with the humans. Going out hunting for the ones who hurt this girl isn't going to help that._ Out loud, she picked up the earlier thread of the conversation. "Some people call me Caprica, or Caprica-Six. You can, too, if you like."

"Okay," Atia said, after a brief pause.

Caprica-Six fell quiet, and finished cleaning Atia up, then went and retrieved one of her shirts. "Here. This'll be a bit long on you, but..."

"Thank you," she said, accepting the shirt and pulling it on, careful not to disturb the bandages the Cylon woman had just applied.

She managed a small smile for the girl. "Your father and I will keep you safe here. I promise."

Atia didn't look quite convinced, but she nodded.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caprica asks Baltar for some more details about Atia; the Exodus

**Chapter 8**

_New Caprica  
Sixteen Weeks Occupied_

Caprica-Six closed the door behind her and went to sit with Gaius, who was reading. One of the Fives was settled next to the door--probably to ensure that Gaius wouldn't drop off the radar again like he had two weeks before.

"How is she?" Gaius muttered, not looking up from his book.

"Her fever's down a bit," she murmured back, resting her head on his shoulder. With any luck at all, the Five wouldn't overhear them. "Are you sure you won't reconsider...?"

"Do you really think the Ones will be any gentler than the Resistance was?"

She didn't quite have an answer for that, so they sat in silence for a while. "Tell me about her mother."

Gaius blinked, but caught himself before looking up. He turned the page. "Her mother?"

"You do remember her, right?"

He flushed faintly. "Yes. I do. I'm just not quite sure why you'd want to--"

"I want to know what sort of woman the mother of your child was," Caprica-Six cut him off.

He didn't answer right away. "Melly. Her name was Melly--Melanie Reyes. We met at University. She was a PhD candidate, and a teaching assistant in a chemistry class I was taking. We became close, and things happened. We were discreet, of course--I never abused the relationship for class purposes; I never had to, but it would...raise a few eyebrows."

When he didn't continue, she asked, "What happened?"

"The semester ended." He shrugged. "Melly got her PhD and a brilliant offer from a pharmaceutical company in Luminere. She suggested we break it off for the summer, since she would be busy moving and getting settled, and she knew my summers were always impossible. Our relationship had been fairly casual in any case. If it was to survive long-distance, attempting that over this particular summer wouldn't necessarily help." He turned another page in his book. "She said she'd call me, in the fall. When she didn't, I assumed I'd just been a way to blow off some steam, and she was too kind to tell me so directly."

"You could've called her," Caprica-Six pointed out.

"I did consider that," he admitted. "But if she wanted to let the relationship die with any sort of dignity, I didn't exactly want to beg. And then my mother died, and I got a bit distracted."

Before she could answer, the door opened and one of the Threes came in, had a quiet word with the Five, and replaced him.

"Later," Gaius said quietly, eyes flicking over to the Three for just a second.

Caprica-Six nodded and kissed his forehead. He closed his eyes and quietly leaned against her.

* * *

_Two Weeks Later_

Ships were screaming through the upper atmosphere, and the other Cylons had left them behind on Colonial One. Gaius waited a few more seconds for things to quiet down, and to be sure that they really were safely alone, then retrieved Atia from her hiding place and pulled her over to the door. "You need to go back to your friends now."

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head, still afraid.

"Don't, Atia. Believe me; you're safer going back with them."

She bit her lip. "What about you...?"

He only wished he knew the answer. "Worry about getting yourself out of here," he said firmly. "I'll manage."

"He's right, Atia." Caprica-Six, seemingly out of nowhere, joined them. "No one knows you've been here, and I'm sure your friends are worried."

Atia shifted uncomfortably. "Is it safe...?"

Gaius closed his eyes. "I'm not sure anything is anymore. But it'll be less unsafe if you go."

Finally she nodded. "I guess...this is goodbye, then..."

"For now," he replied, firmly. "After this is over, I'll find you. I promise."

She nodded again, and slipped out. Gaius watched her go, then sank onto the couch. "I just lied to her, didn't I."

"Gaius, we should go too," Caprica-Six said.

"I just want to sit here and die," he said, burying his face in his hands.

"You're gonna get your wish, Gaius."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thirteen days before Baltar's trial, Iliana learns of Hughes' death; Lampkin plots his strategy

**Chapter 9**

_Thirteen Days Before Gaius Baltar's Trial  
Colonial One_

"Fortuna. A word."

She looked up. "Yes, sir?"

Tom Zarek gestured for her to come into his partitioned-off office space. "Better if we talk in here."

She blinked. "Yes, sir." She grabbed a couple papers that she had ready for him to sign--more efficient that way, whatever her boss wanted with her.

He held the door open for her, and pulled it shut once she was all the way through. "Just leave those on the desk for me. We need to discuss something else first."

Iliana didn't like where this was going. "Something happened."

He nodded. "Sit down."

Something _bad_ happened. She sat. "What's going on?"

"It's about Alan Hughes."

Iliana didn't freeze. She'd been working for Zarek for years; she knew better than to do that. Twenty years in prison gave even a man who had gone in for something far less violent than blowing up a building some heavy predatory instincts. "Baltar's lawyer?"

"Among other things, yes."

"What about him?"

"He's dead."

"He's...dead?" Iliana repeated, not quite grasping what her boss was saying.

Zarek nodded. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"He's...my...you knew?"

He gave her an even look. "Of course I knew, Fortuna. I've always made it my business to know who my staff associates with."

Iliana flushed slightly. "How did...what happened?"

"There was an explosion. He was getting on a Raptor to head back to the _Zephyr_. He was killed instantly." Zarek paused. "It was deliberate. They're still looking for the person responsible."

"I see," she whispered, focusing on keeping her hands steady.

Zarek reached for something behind his desk, and pulled out a slightly singed briefcase. "I volunteered to track down his next of kin. He doesn't have any family left, so that would be you." He held out the case. "It's mostly intact."

It took a few seconds for Iliana to be sure her hands were steady enough to take it from him. "Thank you."

He eyed her for a minute. "Do you need some time?"

She blinked, and took a deep breath. "I...no. Not right now. I think...I'd like to not think about this for a little while."

He nodded. "Good. Let me know if that changes."

"Yes, sir."

"That's all."

She nodded and stood up, hugging Alan's briefcase to her chest.

* * *

_Galactica_

Romo Lampkin was mildly annoyed that he hadn't managed to get his hands on his predecessor's briefcase. He had never met Alan Hughes, but he knew him by reputation as a man who made sure he had all his ducks in a row before he took his shot. The picture he'd been given of how Hughes had been handling the case didn't quite mesh with that. So either the reputation was flawed, or Hughes had given up working directly with Baltar, and was going behind his back to get the aforementioned ducks he needed.

Unfortunately, all of that data and legwork which Lampkin didn't have time to do himself--though he was fairly certain he was having more luck with his client than Hughes had--wasn't in his hands. There had been some sort of mix-up, and Hughes' briefcase had been passed along with the rest of his personal effects. Lampkin was working to track down who had it now, but it was difficult with Major Adama shadowing him. Much as he appreciated the security, it severely hampered his ability to maneuver, at least for the time being, though there was still hope that Lampkin could inspire a more cooperative spirit in the military man.

So it was time to make some assumptions as starting points. Look at all the data he _did_ have access to, and start working on strategy based on it.

Item One: that Baltar had done the things he stood on trial for was unquestionable. The prosecutor had that on her side.

Item Two: following on the heels of Item One, this would have to be a show trial. He needed to prove that having done certain things didn't mean that Baltar was criminally responsible for those actions. Lampkin smiled faintly. He _liked_ playing in show trials.

Item Three: he couldn't prove duress for several of these things, as no eyewitnesses were on his side--many of the crimes had only Cylon eyewitnesses in any case.

Item Four: he could not, under any circumstances, put his client on the stand. Baltar's insanity and general twitchy behavior would undo any other work he might do.

Conclusion: lacking any sort of proof, witness statements, or direct testimony from the only human present for half of the events in question, he had to persuade the panel of judges that Baltar was not criminally responsible for the terrible acts he had committed.

To that end, he had to make Baltar look sympathetic--or pitiable. Unfortunately, his means of doing so were fairly limited. The best way would be to showcase his insanity, of course--if said insanity were reliably pathetic. Pitiable might be better than sympathetic. Easier to achieve, for certain.

But there was one potential detail that might put at least some level of sympathy on the table.

He flipped a page on his notepad, wrote 'Atia Reyes' on top, and began another list.

Item One: no discernible motive for shooting this teenaged girl.

Item Two: Captain Agathon has spoken to her and yet made no progress.

Item Three: following on Item Two, she's hiding something.

Item Four: she was shot less than three weeks before the trial--close enough for people to be frustrated and impatient.

Conclusion: the girl has some sort of connection to Baltar and/or the trial.

The question was, then, the nature of said connection, and how Lampkin could use it to his advantage.

He considered the girl for a few moments, then gave a small smile. She was just seventeen years old; Baltar was thirty-seven. Twenty was a good age for an unplanned, unknown, illegitimate child. And if anyone alive were to have such a child, Baltar was one of the likelier candidates.

Romo Lampkin was not Alan Hughes. He cared less about putting all of his ducks in a row. One would do.

At the bottom of the page, he wrote: _talk to her._


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lampkin makes contact with Atia; Iliana makes a critical decision.

**Chapter 10**

_Eleven Days Before Gaius Baltar's Trial  
Galactica_

Now that he was in sickbay, it wasn't difficult for Lampkin to figure out where within that boundary he might find Atia Reyes. Approaching her without anyone noticing was only a little harder. He had to time it exactly right, so spent a few hours watching the usual rounds of Cottle and his staff, before sneaking over to her. Getting himself caught wasn't the only worry--he knew the girl had been put on some heavy medications. Even if he managed to get to her bedside unseen, there was a good chance that she'd be unconscious, or so out of it she might as well be. If that were the case, it would be a wasted effort, and he wouldn't get even his minimal proof.

A half-hour before he was to return to his quarters, he at last felt the timing was right. He didn't need long; only an uninterrupted minute or two to speak to the child. He double-checked to make sure others' attention was thoroughly elsewhere, then slipped over to the other side of the room.

Luck seemed to be with him, as the girl was awake when he approached. "Evening, miss."

She blinked up at him, and pulled back a little. Even under the drugs Cottle had to have her on, she was wary. Interesting. More evidence to support his theory. "Who're you?"

"My name's Romo Lampkin," he said. "I've a message for you."

Atia shrank back even further. "Wh-what kind of message?"

"Your father sends his regards."

The frozen, terrified expression on the girl's face was all the proof he needed. He smiled at her, and retreated back to his own bed.

When Major Adama came by to escort him back to his regular quarters, he said, "I need to speak with Captain Agathon."

Adama blinked. "Helo? Why?"

"You'll find out when we get there. But it's imperative I speak to him as soon as possible." Lampkin gave a sharp smile. "Trust me. You'll be glad I did."

* * *

_Zephyr_

Iliana hadn't been able to open Alan's briefcase until two days after Zarek had informed her of his death. She knew most of her lover's secrets, and a little bit of the strategy he was planning for the trial--he liked to use her as a sounding board--but part of her was afraid of learning what he might have been hiding from her.

Most of the papers in there were things she already knew, or not particularly interesting for any other reason. Notes from interviews, a few fragments of Baltar's book, and so on. There was a page of the medical report she'd copied for him-- _I thought he'd destroyed that...?_ \--and a handwritten note.

_Atia--_

_It's safe. He wants to help us. You can talk to him._

_\--GB_

Heart pounding, she looked from the medical report to the note and back again. _He was right. Alan was_ right.

Alan had written something on the copied report, in the margin, and circled it. "Daughter."

"My gods..." she whispered. It made an awful sort of sense.

She felt a slight surge of anger. _He went out of his way to do his job, and figure out if he could do something for that girl, and_ no one _cares he's gone_. Oh, they were investigating, of course--Roslin wanted at least the appearance of a fair trial; the new lawyer blowing up wouldn't exactly do much to shore up that perception. But they cared more about the mystery girl than the man who'd died for taking a job no one wanted.

And maybe he wouldn't have died if they'd learned who the girl was in time. They would have known that Alan might be targeted; he would have had the security the new lawyer now had; he would still be with her.

Iliana stared at the medical report, and the handwritten note, then made a decision. She folded them all up together, found an envelope in her desk, sealed it, and wrote 'Motive' on the front. It would be easy to slip it into a reporter's bag without anyone seeing--Playa would be a good choice; she'd been involved with Baltar once upon a time, and was always interested in a good old-fashioned sex scandal. Even one nearly twenty years old.

Maybe, once they knew, someone would actually give a damn.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lampkin tells Helo what he learned from Atia; Atia attempts to run away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the material I had completed and posted before. I got stuck at this point three years ago. As I said, I may pick this up again if I get back into BSG, but I'd say there's about a 20% chance of that happening.

**Chapter 11**

_Eleven Days Before Gaius Baltar's Trial  
Galactica_

Helo was more than a little surprised when Apollo brought Baltar's new lawyer to see him. "He wanted to talk to you," Lee explained. "He won't tell me why."

"And so Major Adama reacts like the mature adult we all know he is and talks over my head," Lampkin said. "I don't believe we've met, Captain Agathon."

"No, we haven't. What did you want to talk to me about?"

"The girl who got shot."

Helo blinked. "What about her?"

"I know why."

The two soldiers stared at him.

"She just so happens to be my client's natural daughter."

There was a long moment of silence, then Helo ran a hand over his hair. "You're absolutely sure?"

Lampkin shrugged. "She is."

"We have to tell the President," Lee said.

"I agree," Lampkin said. "I simply felt it would be a courtesy to inform Captain Agathon first."

"Which I appreciate," Helo said. "Did she tell you anything about who shot her?"

"Well, I can't do your entire job for you, now can I." Lampkin gave Helo a shark smile.

Helo counted to ten in his head. "Okay. I'll talk to her after we've explained this mess to the President." _Who is not going to be happy._

Lee nodded, and the three of them went down to the hangar deck to get on a shuttle to Colonial One.

* * *

_I am going to die._

Atia was certain of that fact. People knew about her now--or if people in general didn't, they would soon.

_But he said he sent him, and he's his lawyer, maybe it's--_

No. No, he'd _promised_ he wouldn't say anything, he'd promised he'd keep her secret and safe, back when she'd first figured out how to get letters to him. Back when he'd asked her to come forward, and she'd turned him down. This was in _no way_ safe.

She thought fast--as fast as she could, given the drugs. Her panic had cut through them at least a little bit, for which she was grateful, but it was still hard to make quick decisions.

_I have to get out of here._

It was the only way to stay safe, now that her secret was out. Otherwise, she'd get shot again, and maybe not survive this time.

Atia shivered a little, and considered how the hell she was going to do that. _One step at a time. Out of this bed, out of sickbay. Focus on those first, then deal with the rest._ If she thought too far ahead, she'd get bogged down in details and her panic would stop helping and she'd never manage to even make those first few steps.

Slowly, carefully, she pulled the IV needle out of her arm, then paused. No frantic alarm beeping--at least not yet. Good. Okay. That meant she had a chance to get out of here before anyone noticed she was gone.

She left everything else hooked up for the moment, and carefully wriggled over to the side of the bed. She took a deep breath and turned, sliding out and trying to stand up. Her knees buckled a little, and she grabbed onto the bedframe for support. After a few seconds, the room steadied a bit around her, and she was able to stand more upright.

_Now or never._

Atia unhooked the last of the wires and stumbled away as the inevitable frantic beeping started behind her. She was so focused on just staying upright and putting one foot in front of the other that she didn't notice the man waiting until she nearly ran into him.

"Going somewhere?"

Her eyes widened, and she stumbled back. He caught her up and put a hand over her mouth before she could scream.


End file.
